


A Very Buffy Christmas

by elementalv



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, My First Fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-12-23
Updated: 2002-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-02 16:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementalv/pseuds/elementalv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just what is it with crosses and vampires, anyway? Spike claims he knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Buffy Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> There are no warnings for "Very first story written and posted," but there maybe should be. I haven't really looked at it since its original publication date of December 23, 2002.

"'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the graveyard crept the undead. With fangs dripping gore and foreheads all bumpy, all of the vamps looked kind of grumpy. Buffy with Mr. Pointy in hand, thought she might —"

"What the **hell** are you doing, Slayer?"

Buffy spun around, stake at the ready. "Oh. It's you."

"Yeah. It's me. And what are you doing to that poor, defenceless poem? I thought you were supposed to protect the innocent. Not destroy it."

"Hah. Hah. Oh, my aching gut." She turned to continue her patrol. With any luck, she'd be home before Santa Claus showed up. She hoped Anya had been joking earlier, but she knew Anya was too literal for that.

"Wait! Where're you goin'?" Spike hated the sound of loser in his voice. Bad enough to fall in love with a Slayer, but there was no need to let her know how pathetic he was.

"Patrolling. And I want to get home before midnight."

"Why? It's not like Santa Claus is gonna pay a visit to the Slayer's house."

She stopped and turned back to him, saying, "You knew about this?"

"Sure. Everyone does."

"I didn't. Not until Anya told me."

"Doesn't your Watcher tell you anything?"

"Giles tells me plenty. Especially about how to kill pesky vampires," she said, turning to leave. Again.

"Yeah, right. And he's told you about why the cross bothers vamps so much, right?"

She paused, "What are you talking about?"

"It never occurred to you to wonder why the Christian cross burns us, but none of the other religious symbols do?"

"Well — of course — huh?" She was confused. Spike had a good point, and one she'd never really thought about before. Tools were tools, and if they worked, why bother asking why?

"Poncy Watchers' Council still won't tell the story, huh?"

It was no use. He'd roused her curiosity. She found a comfy gravestone and sat down to hear what Spike had to say. If nothing else, it would break up the evening. Other than Spike, she hadn't seen a single demon since patrol started.

"Okay, Spike. You got my attention. What story?"

Relishing his small victory, Spike made the most of the moment, taking care to watch her face closely when he said, "The story of the Slayer Virgin Mary, of course."

The look on her face really was quite worth telling the secret.

"The Slayer what? No. No way am I buying this. Giles would have told me."

"Not if there's been an agreement between the Catholic Church and the Watchers' Council since the Inquisition started."

"Why would there be an agreement like that?"

"Why else? To keep the Church off the Council's back and to protect the Slayers and Watchers." He shook out a cigarette and lit it. "I mean, obviously, I wasn't there during that time, but Darla had stories, and they were pretty ugly. Demons couldn't believe how imaginative humans could be when it came to torturing their own. Only natural that the Council would want to protect its girls, right?"

Buffy thought about it and realized that Spike had a point. She hadn't read much about the Inquisition in her history classes, but she knew the Spanish version had been more brutal than most of the rest. Given the nature of the Slayer and her training, any of young women or their Watchers could have become a target for the court. An agreement between the Council and the Catholic Church would have prevented early Slayer death and kept the Council going.

"Okay. I'll buy that. But what has that to do with Mary?"

"Weren't you listening? The Virgin Mary was a Slayer. By all accounts I've ever heard, she was the best there ever was. Better'n you, even," he said, slyly.

"Right. Mary was a Slayer. And the Easter Bunny was her pet rabbit. Pull the other leg, Spike."

"You gonna listen, or you gonna crack jokes?"

She let loose a deep sigh and said, "I'll shut up now. Tell your story so I can go home and to bed."

"Right then. The first Slayer was created by a god called Yahweh. Bugger hated demons, but he hated vampires with a passion. Thought they ruined his pretty little world. That's why he made Slayers. Eons go by, with each Slayer learning a bit more than the last. It wasn't until the first Watchers' Council was formed that Slayers really got a boost up on the evolutionary ladder."

Buffy was caught by the narrative. She'd check with Giles later to see if he knew if any of it was true, but for now, she was soaking it up. Sort of. "How do you know this?"

He shot her a look and said, "I thought you were going to shut up. But since you insist on interrupting, any vampire with more than a few decades learns the story. It's kind of important, don't you agree? Anyway, things go along okay — until Mary is called. It's in her that all the promise and potential of Slayers come to life. She's faster and smarter than any of them have been before her. She learns to fight on her own, 'cause her Watcher was a boozy old git who couldn't be bothered to teach her. Her kill count in the first month was somewhere around 100, if I remember right. She was good. So good, in fact, that she managed to catch Yahweh's attention. She was everything he'd hoped for, see? Brave, cunning, strong. Strong enough, maybe, to accept a burden he was about to lay on her."

"Yeah, I can see being single and pregnant as a burden," Buffy said, thoughtfully.

Spike let the interruption pass without comment. For one thing, they were actually talking, and she wasn't beating him to a bloody pulp. Baby steps forward.

"Not just the single and pregnant bit. There's also the sacrificial son bit."

Startled, she looked up at him.

"You didn't think that her son hanging on a cross was an accident, do you? It was a sacrifice, pure and simple."

"But —"

"Look, I know what the Bible says about his time on Earth, and most of it's right, but it leaves out the fact that Mary sent him on his way. She wanted him to have a chance to live a bit first. And maybe teach people something about how to live and how to treat others. You're kind of like her in that — strong sense of justice and fair play. But it was all just filler until it was time for the sacrifice. He knew what was comin' down the pike. He'd been told when he was 12, and you can bet Mary had a thing or two to say to Yahweh about sending that particular message."

Spike crushed his cigarette, then lit another, taking a deep drag before starting again. "From what I heard, she was a good mum. When she found out her son had been told, she laid it out on the line for him. Told him his sacrifice would help save a lot of lives. Told him if she had any say in the matter, she would protect him, but it had to be his blood to soak the cross. Only the child of a Slayer had enough mojo in him to poison the symbol through the end of time.

"And it did. That sacrifice made every single cross, no matter how simple or ornate, the bane of every vampire in existence. It was a blood sacrifice of the purest kind. Both parents agreed to it, and so did Christ. And that's why the cross burns vampires."

She couldn't help it. Her mouth hung open in shock. The hell of it was that Spike's story had the ring of truth to it. And it made so much sense. "She let her son be killed..."

"Yeah. Hell of a thing, isn't it?"

"I can't even imagine what she must have felt. How she could have made that sacrifice." Buffy tried to sort through what she was feeling, but the one emotion that came through loud and clear was awe. If Spike was telling the truth —

She stood up, still wrapped in her own thoughts. "Gotta go, Spike. Merry Christmas."

He watched as she left the graveyard, then chuckled to himself.


End file.
